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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24173047">Regarding Meeting Lance's Family</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingTypewriter/pseuds/BleedingTypewriter'>BleedingTypewriter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Regarding Twitter (NSFW) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom Lance (Voltron), Drabble, Established Relationship, M/M, Meet the Family, Sweet, romantic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:20:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>840</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24173047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingTypewriter/pseuds/BleedingTypewriter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance takes Keith home to meet his family for the first time. It doesn’t go the way he planned (but then, neither had Keith, and they’re doing alright).</p>
<p>Part of a series of edited/updated threads from Twitter.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Lance (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Regarding Twitter (NSFW) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744681</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>200</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Regarding Meeting Lance's Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>"Regarding Twitter" is a series of my favourite threads updated, lightly edited, and tagged. All original versions are available on my account <a href="https://twitter.com/BleedingType/status/1199399029395709952">here.</a> Length and tone varies as Twitter is where I tend to play and explore.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lance has thought about bringing his boyfriend home for forever, and when he finally does Keith ruins pretty much every one of his fantasies.</p>
<p>He sounds like he’s heading into battle when they pull up to the McClain family home. (“Oh...” he mumbles as nieces and nephews come pouring out the front door. “Oh god, <em>look</em> at them.”) So Lance doesn’t introduce an awkward-but-managing, ain’t-he-cute-though boyfriend to his family. He introduces an overwhelmed, frazzled ball of anxiety; a nervous Keith bouncing on his toes like he’s afraid he’s going to step on one of the kids, nearly mute.</p>
<p>He takes Keith to the beach with visions of long black hair breaching the surf and arbitrary swimming races over the waves and tan lines in the shape of hands where they fall asleep in the sun. He gets four brisk, military style laps to and from a nearby sandbar before Keith passes out with too little sunscreen and wakes up red from shoulder to ankle with a permanent pair of white shorts that he fucking <em>dares</em> Lance to make a comment on.</p>
<p>(He does, and it ruins an entire day of their vacation.)</p>
<p>Lance takes Keith out with his brothers for a guys’ night out, expecting his boyfriend to maybe have a drink or two; relax, for once, around more than one McClain at a time. But Marco discovers way too early in the evening that Keith doesn’t really react to the taste of tequila, and he’s way too tickled by it. So he keeps insistently buying shots, and Keith goes on the defensive as soon as Lance suggests he maybe shouldn’t have another, and Lance ends up holding handfuls of sweaty hair in one hand and plugging his nose to quell his own sympathy gags with the other as Keith heaves into a public toilet.</p>
<p>But then.</p>
<p>He doesn’t expect Keith to wake up early the next morning and, with bags under his eyes and a stomach full of anti-nausea meds, quietly attend church with the rest of his family. Marco, equally as hungover, leans into Lance’s side as Keith politely and determinedly forces down his Abuela’s Sunday lunch and whispers, “He’s a trooper. Keep this one.”</p>
<p>He doesn’t expect Keith to take him by the hand and drive him silently back to the beach the day after their argument. He’s still sunburnt, so every bump in the road has him wincing in his seat. When they get there, his stilted apology seems even more painful still, awkward in its sincerity. And they make up properly for the first time and wade into the ocean and walk for less than ten minutes before it’s too much on Keith’s abused skin, and end up making out in the car like teenagers (Lance even gets the silly, giddy thrill of having to hide a hickey from his mom).</p>
<p>He doesn’t expect to wake up to an empty bed and a bustling kitchen one morning near the end of their visit, Keith right there in the thick of it, following orders in a language he doesn’t even understand as Lance’s mother and grandmother and sisters all half-yell their McClain pidgin Spanish-English. “Yes, with <em>love</em>,” his abuela says, grinning, holding Keith by the wrist to show him how to beat the eggs just right. “You love someone, you make their food with love. This will be for Lance, yes?” And Keith blushes and nods and gets that unnaturally focused look he only ever gets during training, and those rubbery eggs are the best thing Lance has ever tasted.</p>
<p>That night, he spreads Keith out on the double bed that’s replaced the twin of his teenaged years in what’s now the guest bedroom. He drapes himself on top of him, and takes him inside himself, and whispers how much, how deep, how fucking hard he loves Keith until he’s filling Lance with a muted grunt (because his siblings’ rooms are only a couple bathroom walls away). And he keeps going until Keith is grabbing at his hips, pleading in a stage whisper for him to stop, trembling so hard he slips out for a second and Lance has to be quick to get him back inside before he can wriggle away. He has to kiss him to keep him quiet as he coaxes out another almost painful orgasm (and even then, Veronica will smirk at him over breakfast).</p>
<p>“This is not,” Keith pants afterward, “how I expected ‘meeting the family’ to go.”</p>
<p>“Same,” Lance sighs with a dopey grin. There’s a flaky white line of dried drool from the corner of Keith’s mouth to his earlobe, leftover from their lovemaking. He’s pulled the sheets up, even though it’s stiflingly hot, as though he’s afraid Lance’s abuela is going to burst into the room at any moment. His hair is doing this thing in the moonlight, falling in shards of ebony, harsh reflections cut into it as it pieces together in that weird, specific way it does when it gets a little wet. “So much better.”</p>
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